


Scar Tissue

by stephmcx



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, Character Study, Coda, Episode Related, Episode: s06e25 O Ke Ali'i Wale No Ka'u Makemake (My Desire is Only for the Chief), Gen, Hurt, Mentions of surgery, Organ Transplantation, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:54:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26289082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephmcx/pseuds/stephmcx
Summary: He can’t seem to wrap his head around what happened, around still being alive and how that is even possible. The changes made are irreversible and he can’t seem to accept that, doesn’t know how to adapt—Coda to 6x25
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49





	Scar Tissue

**Author's Note:**

> A short and dark ficlet that pretty much reflects the mood I was in when I wrote it a few weeks ago.

It’s just a glimpse, caught out of the corner of his eye. He’s not even standing right in front of the mirror in his bedroom as he slowly and carefully puts on his shirt, he’s standing a little to the side, next to the closet. But the scar that runs from just below his chest down the middle of his stomach and stops short of his navel is an angry red line, still fresh and raw and ugly and he can’t look away. Steve is not usually self-conscious about his many scars, but this one is not a part of him yet.

He’s been released from the hospital only yesterday, and he hasn’t really had a chance to look at it, to take stock of the changes and to adjust. It’s not that he isn’t aware of it at all times though, the _hows_ and _whys_ and _what-ifs_ that surround it are haunting him constantly, night and day, ever since that day a month ago when he’d been shot—

With high calibre, at pretty close range, in mid-air.

He’d been shot before and he’s come close to dying before, too, but he wouldn’t have made it on his own on that day—

He barely remembers what happened on the plane. But he remembers the excruciating pain when the gunshots hit him, he remembers the shock and the fight bleeding out of him, literally, he remembers the brief feeling of panic and despair being rapidly replaced by the sure knowledge that this was it, that this was the end. 

He remembers _dying_ , and he’d known moments before he’d slipped into unconsciousness that he wouldn’t live to wake up again.

But then he had, and he doesn’t know how to deal. He’s alive but he can’t help but think he shouldn’t be. There’d been a price to pay and he hadn’t been asked, it had been paid for him without his consent—

Steve can hear voices from downstairs, but he’s not ready to face them and he doesn’t feel like he will ever be. Instead, he steps closer to the mirror. Brings his hand up, watches in a detached kind of way how his fingers brush over the only just healed incision. He can barely feel the sensation. The scar itself is numb to the touch and the skin around it prickles uncomfortably. Not in a painful way, and not in any way he thinks a remainder of such a life changing injury should feel.

Under his fingers though, he can feel the ragged, still slightly bulging scar tissue and he presses his fingertips a little harder to it, willing to elicit any kind of sensation out of the severed nerves. He almost wishes back the pain. There had been a lot of it, _so much_ of it, but he’d been trained to deal with pain and for the most part, it had effectively kept him from thinking and feeling anything else.

The problem is that since the pain has faded to a dull but ever present companion, everything else has faded, too. Like he doesn’t know how to feel anything anymore. Most of the time he feels numb and prickly, just like the scar. He can’t seem to wrap his head around what happened, around still being alive and how that is even possible. The changes made are irreversible and he can’t seem to accept that, doesn’t know how to adapt—

For the first time in his adult life, he’s afraid of the future. Of the changes necessary. Of not being in control over his own body anymore, of being dependent, of not being able to repay the debt—

Eventually Steve tears his eyes away from his reflection in the mirror and looks down at the scar, running his fingertips along it’s length. Looking at it doesn’t help with feeling it though, and he closes his eyes quickly, against the tears that are threatening to well up and ashamed of this weakness. He presses his hand flat on his stomach, over the place where his own body had failed him and he’s so desperate to _feel_ — 

To feel alive. 

To feel whole. 

To feel like himself again. 

To feel gratitude for this second chance he’s been granted. 

To feel life beating through his veins. To feel _Danny’s_ life beneath where his hand still touches the scar. To feel the love Danny deserves.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥
> 
> I'm also on tumblr: [stephmcx](http://stephmcx.tumblr.com).  
> Come say hi, if you like!


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